In the beginning with you (the story continues
by tayrn24
Summary: A new chapter to the story What if just before Culloden at the moment when Claire approached the stone circle to go back in time the solder was coming to close for comfort for Jamie's taste, so he rushed to protect her with his body only to be whorled back in time to where the story all began.


**Chapter 1: Sassenach**

 _People disappear all the time…. Most are found eventually… Disappearances after all have explanations._

I know that!

And as I laid on the ground with my eyes closed, letting my heart try and steady himself back to some resemblance of a normal heart rate, I know that, that, would soon be said about me.

Probably, plastered as a headline in some newspaper, while underneath would be a picture of me looking disoriented, confused, miserable, and with, o dear Lord, child.

My fingers went automatically to my womb trying to estimate by touch all the goings on there. With my eyes still closed, of course.

Opening them would mean excepting my new reality, without him, and that I wasn't ready to do even if I was capable of such an act; my eyes seemed to be glued together. Dried tears I assumed.

I reached my hand to a spot beneath my navel. It was hard to move any ligament though. Naturally, it would. Everything will be hard from now on, and no one to truly share the burden with.

Something felt odd, different, queerer then before. Not that I could feel the child before, but something was definitely wrong.

I suppose it was all those thoughts, feelings, heartache and the detrimental physical results of going through those blasted stones that were the cause, I haven't actually realized that it wasn't a woolen dress that I was touching, or that my surroundings were not mute at all.

All of a sudden I could hear the shooting all around. They were starting to rumble and multiply in my ears as if earplugs where suddenly removed.

Wait! Another thought jumped into focus: Jamie!

Suddenly events leading to my crossing were beginning to come back.

Jamie… the soldiers that were after me... the stones.

But it wasn't the soldier's hands that grabbed my, it wasn't his body that flung wildly on mine, and it wasn't his last breath that whispered "I love you" before everything shattered; Before I shattered into a million pieces.

I could feel him there with me, screaming in the dark, being split into nothing. But, then, I only thought it, a wish of the heart not rooted in reality.

I opened my eyes wide open. Pain and stickiness be dammed.

No, he was definitely not with me now.

O God, did he die right there, in that f***ing soldier hands? Stabbed in the back? Shot? Only to protect me?

I felt my throat clench, tears were falling from me, completely by themselves.

He was dead and it was because of me.

I curled myself into a ball on the ground and decided that despite my promise to him, I would lie here and die.

It isn't actually breaking my promise to him if I were to just freeze to death on the ground, it's not as if I did it to myself. It will happen on its own accord, or maybe one of the muskets shooting…. Muskets?

I suddenly remembered that piece of my reality; why were there muskets?

A sudden, sharp, familiar shout pierced the heather, and made me stand, bolt up. This was accompanied by the most familiar shouting and cries; war cries, highlander's war cries.

A freezing gust of ice, cold wind blow between my … "What on earth?"

I looked down to find myself wearing my oxford loafers, my rayon and linen white dress belted with a thin light brown belt; I was wearing my silver wrist watch for Christ sake.

I started panting as if I was running for hours. This wasn't possible; I must have hit my head or gone bat mad crazy because of those bloody, bloody stones.

Still in a complete daze, my feet started moving. When my mind caught up with what my body was doing, I simply theorized that my body was probably searching for someone or something else that could verify my delusion state.

Maybe Jiminy cricket will show up on my shoulder as a tour guide to Gepetto's house.

I was so stupefied, that I just allowed myself to wander on, unable to construct one coherent thought.

A discharge shot piercing my ear drum, sent my crouching to the ground, and two seconds later running. Running from what? What was going on?

Just questions sprung to mind, not a single answer. I just ran.

No, this was not a set of a Cinema Company, filming a costume drama; I reprimanded my brain for even suggesting such a thing **again**. Hold on… **again?**

I have been through all of this before that much I realized and even if this was a dream, the man waiting at the end of this delusion was…..

I whirled around in order to backtrack my steps, but lost my footing on the muddy earth and fell down the slope, when I finally got up, I could see them; yes, it was him.

It was Angus, passing by, discharging a musket and running. I cried out and immediately desist. No sound that I could make would carry above this hullabaloo; Good lord, what would I even say? They don't know me yet.

And then I remembered, this was a hallucination, it really didn't matter if I would…. But there wasn't even time to ponder that or why, in hell, am I trying to play along with this delusion. The red coats spotted me and began to fire.

Apparently, when fired upon- so I was discovering- your mind and body do not care if it is real or not. And yet again I found myself running without me giving consent to such a thing.

If I have, if I for one instant had my wits about me or if the men were not hot on my trail, almost reaching me, I would have remembered.

I would have remembered that this exact path took me to stand straight in front of… Jack Randall, Captain Black Jack Randall.

"S**t" I said aloud, that's all I could think of at that moment. And that was a very grave mistake. He rose to his feet, sward sheathed, but still very much at hand. Dream or no dream I preferred the soldiers company, even if they were to shoot me. I took a few steps backwards, but he fallowed.

"S**t" I repeated and turn to run (God, will I never learn). He reached me within seconds and I found myself sprawled on the side of the mound, sword at my throat, again!

This is not funny, I reflected angrily.

Holding me very tight, his breath on my face, he said "I am, Jonathan Randall, Esquire, Captain of His Majesty's Eighth Dragoons. At your service" he added very cynically "who the bloody hell are you?"

This is demented, this is not real, he is not real, he can't be, I screamed in my head.

But last time, I was sure it was a dream as well and I was smart enough to collaborate, than the heavens. I wasn't about to play dumb now.

I couldn't say all the same things again as before, could I? That would be truly moronic. Luckily, if one could say such a thing with a straight face regarding my situation, He didn't wait for me to reply.

"You must think me the fool. You'll be well advised to tell me exactly who you are, and why you are here." I kept silence, I needed to stay alive just long enough, for him to come, I remembered. Just live long enough for him to come I repeated to myself.

Unfortunately, Randall wasn't a patient man. He shook me hard, and my head rebounded on the mound, I swung my hands automatically to my head to protect myself, and he must have thought I was trying to get away, For He fastened his blade to my throat and I could feel him compress it firmly, as the acrid smell of blood tickled my nostrils.

"Madam, you will find my patient is not infinite" he announced needlessly, and all I could think was 'ha this goings on are new'; things were becoming blurry after that.

I suspected that the blow to my head was a bit too serious then I could afford right now, and it was showing, he slapped me hard to awaken me.

"No one would help Alex now" I mumbled losing coherency. I was really wobbly, but if I lost conscious, now, I was sure it will be the end for me.

"What?" his eyes popped open and the cords on his neck were straining and bulging out. Just like frank's did. And all of a sudden I had an urge to touch it, to say goodbye.

He shook me considerably now. He had heard me, and was truly taken aback. That gave me a tinge of satisfaction, which was rapidly replaced by annoyance; It was hard to faint properly and be done with it all, while being rattled like a moppet.

"You f***ing bastard. Stop it" I shouted at his face and spat at him. F**k it indeed; if I was going down, I was going down fighting.

"Ha. The speech of a lady, the language of a whore" he smiled at my stirring, twisting me, my face now buried in the rock and was lifting my dress from behind while panting in my ear

"we shall see what you will or will not tell me now..."

A load thump and the pressure that his body affected on mine eased.

"Took you long enough" I said aloud and fell like a rock to the ground, everything fading to black.

* * *

He was dead. This much he knew. And oddly enough, that was a great comfort to him. It was over, everything was over.

Of course everything was over the moment she left, he thought, and felt a verra sharp tightening in his chest.

She was gone.

Dammit, this shouldna hurt this much.

That's why dying, as soon as possible, after she would leave, was so important.

To not feel the pain of their separation.  
He know he would probably feel regret for dying, before going back to save his men and said he must remember to pray for each and every one of them and for their safely return home, to Lallybroch.  
O, Lallybroch, he would miss his place so much.  
No, not his place, he reminded himself, it was wee Jaime's, now.

He will take good care of it, when the time comes, he was sure of that. For he kent who his parents were.

The tightening in his chest returned yet again at the thought of not seeing his sister, brother- in-law and best friend forever.  
Worst than that, he felt very badly for taking so many men into this pointless, futile bloodshed.

'Merde…. Salope Charles Stuart…. Casse-toi!' he muttered. But what was he to do?! What could he have done differently?! And why, for Christ sake, wasn't anyone coming to tell him where to go next?!

Jesus, what was it, that did him in, at the end?  
He remembered Claire running to those t-olc rocks, and a red coat right behind her. He killed his companion first, but that only slowed him down in such a way, that He had to wield his own body to save her. Which, of course, he did.  
Hurling himself on her, just as she reached the stone.

He was sure he would feel the rock hit his face and a bayonet being speared into him, from the back.  
He was stabbed before; why, she dressed such hounds for him herself.

He smiled a little at that.  
God, as send him, his own private, beautiful, knowledge beyond his time, healer. His smile widened.

But that, did not feel the same. He returned to his original thought, a moment later.  
That felt like noting he ever experienced. That felt as if he did not exist anymore, but he was aware of it.

Like he was shattered to so many parts that he could never be put back together.  
And then an instant later a force, which, he assumed, must be divine (for nothing on earth could yield such power) sucked him back together; and made him into what? He wondered.

And the screams, o Lord, the screams. He was afraid that they would come and take the pieces that were him, away.  
So small he felt. Like the things Claire would tell him about, what where they? Gerrrms, he recalled, he also called to mind her smile when he would say the word.  
How he loved that he could make her smile like that.

Now it will be Frank that will make her laugh. He said a lot of very bad words at that realization.  
This was not enough though.

He could still feel the anger sear him from the inside, spreading, making it impossible to lay still.

No, he could not stand the thought of that man touching his women, his child;  
He won her. She loved him, She chose him. He sired her children, Frank did not.

O Lord, the pain in his chest was now going to burst, and it would take him with it. But, wait, was he not already dead?

He opened his eyes, flung his body, and screamed at the top of his lungs;  
His right shoulder, the whole right side of him was erupting with currents of pain.

He screamed again, trying to rise to his feet and collapsed straight down, only at the last second remembering to shift and fall on the left side of his face.

" Ça me fait chier " he said wholeheartedly into the grass. He was obviously not dead.

All of a sudden, hands were griping him, someone tried to stand him up, he shrieked and then to his abashment he whimpered. They laughed at him. Great!  
Wait a minute, That laugh, he kent that laugh.  
The laughing man gave up trying to stand him and was now carrying him on his shoulders as a carcass.

He could not see his face, but that laugh, he'd ken it anywhere.  
He laughed wi' the man enough times to have it cauterized into his brain.

Rupert. Rupert MacKenzie, but the man was deid, he saw him die.  
I am dead, he returned to his original assumption. And he supposed to send a friend as a guide is a very kind thing to do. But what in all that his holly, is Angus doing here?!

He must have died also, poor bugger.

Jaime found just one thing, weel no; to be fair about it, he found three things unclear: why was he in so much pain if he was dead?  
Why was he hurt with an old injury? He grimaced at his shoulder joint completely out of place.  
And by God and Mary bless her, why where they going into the cottage where he first saw-

"A Dhia, cuidich mi" will he be allowed to see her again?  
An awful thought struck at him. Were she and the bairn deid? He gasped and could no longer feel his body or the jolts of pain from being moved around and placed to sit on a stool near the hearth.  
He no longer saw faces around him.  
If she died, she and the child-

Tears were blurring everything, he dinna care. He stared at the floor, chocked, preferring her to be wi' Frank. Happy, safe, wi'oot him, but alive.  
They were sounds around him, trying to talk to him, but it was as if they were a thousand miles away.  
Leave him be.

Leave him to mourn, to cry for his love, his heart, his second child.

He shuddered and was about to completely fall apart when a big thunk was heard and the door flinging open, made him look up.  
As the only ray of light entered the cottage from the outside, so entered the shape of Murtagh hauling the unconscious form of-

"Cl…" he was rising to his feet, trying to reach her. But the shoulder was not a force to be trifled with and he fall into the stool, clutching his hand and gasping for breath.  
He could only tilt his head, but it was enough to see that she was only unconscious, for she was stirring, and grunting as she was lowered from his shoulders, and was propped near the other fire, leaning on Murtagh for support.

All the men rallied around her. Some baffled, all completely taken aback.  
What was wrong wi' them? Did they no ken his women? he was about to speak up, for He couldna seem to manege to go to her, or move -

There was a hand on his good shoulder, holding him down (was he that weak?). He dinna care who it was though, he could only see her.  
Lowering his gaze from her face, which were slowly awakening, he noticed her clothes, or more accurately the lack of them!  
What was the lass up to? Last he saw her, she was fully dressed.

O Lord, did someone hurt her?  
He made to speak yet again, but Rupert inquiring Murtagh about her paused him.

As he heard the man speech he realized the oddest thing.

He heard these exact words three years ago.  
He remembered all right, he took it to mind. Every second of the day they met.  
He told it many times to Claire belly, while she was sound asleep, laughing, privately, with faith, telling her of the first day her parents met; swearing her to secrecy to not tell her mother all the things the men had said, behind her back.

The hand on his shoulder was lifted and Dougal appeared before his eyes. He drew a sharp aching breath and almost fainted.

he was sure his eyes were bulging out but he could not adjust himself right or move a muscle to save his life.  
He was in a complete state of shock. He had just killed the man!  
Surely, in purgatory the devil himself would not put the man who was killed with his own slayer!?  
If he dinna ken that Dougal would have so much to recompense over, before being granted such a gift, he would have been more rattled.

With his mind easier from the concern of such retribution occurring, at this exact moment; realization dawned on him.  
He touched the stone with her, which he hadna done before, the stones were a way of moving through time and it was quite clear, that what happened was happening again. Now!  
He also just realized that if he wasna dead, and this was not a dream; the women he was forced to part with was right there, in front of him, as the day he met her.  
In the day he met her.  
He got her back.

Incapacity be dammed. He'd go to her, now!  
Dougal was shaking her lightly. She was still leaned on Murtagh side, arm wrapped around his shoulder, hardly any weight was on her feet but she did whine a bit.  
He'd kill whoever hurt her.  
"What's wrong with her?" Jamie asked Murtagh, his voice sounding breathless, he was trying to rise on his feet but no more success then the first time.  
She was blinking her eyes in intermission, making light groaning noises.  
"Jack Randall" Murtagh answered matter-of-factly as nothing else needed to be said. Nothing did.

"What of ye lad? How r'ye faring?"  
"I'll do" he answered dryly "what's wrong wi' her then?" he was trying to rise again, which only led to Murtagh thrusting Claire into Dougal arms and come to his side "Hi, ye big clot. Donna ye be doing that!"  
"Donna ye be doing that!" he cried, and flung himself up, trying to reach Dougal and his wife "ye gonna hurt her".  
Murtagh seized him by both shoulders and lowered him back down to the stool.

Jamie was now seeing stars inside his head, and wondering how they got there.  
"Jamie" he exclaimed "Dè tha thu a dèanamh burraidh?"  
"Let go" he tried to wiggle away from him "I'm no doing anything, I wasna the one throwing my…." He stopped himself, realizing. She wasna his wife, yet. They all dinna ken her or of her, yet.  
And then the most horrifying thought came: what if she dinna ken them back. And perpetuation to that crushing thought was: what if she dinna ken **him** and who he was to her.  
He had to be cautious and shrewd here.

He got a second chance, he willna get another. And he wasna willing to lose her again.

'A Dhia Mòran taing' he invoked to the heavens.

"Tha mi duilich a charaid" he said in the most penitent tone he could contrive "it's the pain, a ghoistidh. It's making me soft in the heid. canna think straight"  
"Aye…" his godfather nodded but stayed dubious.

This was interrupted by coughing sounds from the circle of man, who were now surveying Claire, which was doing the coughing, due the whiskey that was poured down her throat by Dougal.

They were looking at her in a very animalistic manner, and they seemed to be closing ranks around her.  
He will ring their necks, one by one, and very slowly.

"What?" said Murtagh and he realized he was growling.  
"Nothing" he squirmed a little, which made him let out a very low grunt of pain "it's the pain, it's really bad. Can hardly sit still"

"Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ" Claire was gasping for breath pounding at her chest wi' one hand, using the other to wave at the flask to be taken away. "You're not supposed to give alcohol to head injury patients" she wheezed but then relaxed.

That made him smile.  
She was all right then. Ordering men around in a reproaching manner and spouting medical facts was Claire at her best.

"A Sassenach wench, then?" exclaimed Angus.  
"Aye" said Dougal, and Jamie could hear the scheming and plotting going on in his head "Now lass, if ye're quite recovered by now, ye'll be telling me, what is your name and how ye are?" she looked around at them and then glanced a swift peek at Jamie's direction.

Did she recognize him? He couldna see her eyes over the dim light. If he had, he would ken, if he could touch her he would ken.  
He knew what she looked like, what she felt like, how she touched him before and after she was his. He ken the difference verra weel indeed.

"I'm Claire. Claire Beauchamp" she said staring straight into Dougal's eyes. She always had the devil own courage.  
Please let her remember him, please let her come to him and heal him so he could see her, touch her.  
It's fine if she will not remember him, he tried calming himself.  
He'll earn her; he did it before, he shall do it again. And then-

"I am not a whore" her very fierce tone, brought him back from scheming and plotting himself, but for a verra noble cause he assured his conscience.  
"We can put it to the test" Rupert joked with Angus, thrusting his hips a little forward in a lewd manner. If Jamie had a gun it would be empty by now.  
"I won't hold with rape" Dougal berating put a stop to their laughter "and we havna got time for it anyway" he added with a little regret in his voice?!  
"Dougal, I have no idea what she might be or who, but I'll stake my best shot she not a whore" it was the 'what' and the way Murtagh said it, that made his ears itch and his skin crawl, what did he know? what did he see?  
"We'll puzzle it later. We got a good distance to go tonight. And we must do something about Jaime first" he came to stand near him.  
"I can help" Claire cried out fallowing him swiftly.

Three men drew out their blades at her throat as she stood back frozen. The others seem to be contemplating other parts of her, licking their lips, and suggesting some things regarding such parts in Gàidhlig.

Men are bad, he determined.

"I only meant…." she said, cautiously maneuvering through the blades coming closer to him. Moving and talking to them as if there where a skittish horse she was trying to tame.

Christ. She learned that from him.

"You have to get the bone and the upper arm in the correct position before it slips back into joint" she explained, aiming her words where the power laid. Dougal stared back, surveying her yet again, then nodded and moved back.  
At this all of the men stood back as weel.

She came to him, and he had to bite his lips not to smile, her eyes in his. Did she remember?  
He was almost sure she did, but could he take the risk?  
As she bent to him, her drenched hair slipped to her face, and he instinctively lifted his hand to put it back behind her ear. He stopped himself a little too late. An inch from her face, hand suspended mid- air not knowing what to do. She gathered his palm in hers (o Lord, her touch), placing it on his good shoulder nodding to him "yes, you should hold your hand here" then nodding to Murtagh, said "hold him steady"  
He inhaled sharply when she took his wrist "don't worry" she said a hair distance away from his face "I've done this… before" he wanted to tell her he Kent that verra weel, but she was already aligning his arm, twisting in such a way that he couldna articulate words.  
"All right, this is the worst part"  
"I remember" he strained very badly to let the words out.  
"Ye whelp, when did ye ever dislocated your shoulder" said Murtagh's snickering voice in his ear.  
But he got what he sought after, Claire's face lighted and her lip quivered as she fought the urge to smile. She remembered!

* * *

I popped the joint back into place. The grinding sounds of cartilage and bone troubled me much more this time. I did not enjoy hurting Jamie, well, not usually I rectified.

His breathing was slowing down from the procedure, more now that he was able to take full breaths, without pain. He sighed with relief, a smile spreading from lips, to eyes even nostrils were flaring up.

He was holding my hand in his, tight, not letting go, and his eyes bear the look he usually had just before-

Ho dear, if we stayed locked eyes like this, he might well pull me all the way to him and… When fully aroused a Fraser will do anything, anywhere any time and the devil with who would be watching (you learn a thing or two in almost three years of marriage)

I swallowed hard and his grip tightened on my wrist in a way that it was my cartilage and bone that were making rasping sound now.

His look now shifted to one I would catch him giving me, when he was unaware I was seeing him.

He would Survey me and I could hear the wheels of his brain turning, making plans as to what to do to with me later (I asked him once what he was about and never again).

His mouth opened slightly, and he gave the hand he was holding a quick glance, slanted eyes narrowing. Surely he wouldn't bite my fingers right now! Well he did and many times, sometimes in company, I reminded myself but certainly not now?!

Just in case, I cleared my throat and inclined my head toward Angus "give me your belt" and stretching my hand to him to receive it. Both his eyebrows shot up at that.

Seriously, I thought, must we really go through **a l l** of it again? I looked at Dougal and elaborated.

"The organ his tender, and at risk to be dislodged again without proper support. I need to make him a sling; do you have a cloth or something else I can use?" I asked, knowing full well what the answer would be "well do you? Any of you?"

Exasperated, I repeated my request "Then give me your belt" Angus stared at me open mouthed, until yet again, Dougal gave his acquiescence. And I was in possession of a belt.

I went about the task of repeating everything I said, 'before', regarding the care of the joint and how it would feel, just in case straying from the script would cause a massive cosmic disturbance.

I was apparently not very subdued in my tone for that received me a strong glare from Jamie, strongly suggesting I toned myself down.

'sorry' I answered back with a look of my own, that awarded me a warm reassuring squeeze at my wrist, which he was still holding for dear life.

I extricated my hand very gently out of his- not- so- willing- to- free- me- palm, and resumed my administration, trying as much as possible to covertly caress him while doing so.

"All right, how does that feel?" I asked straightening up. Funny enough I know the answer to that as well.

He smiled knowingly at me, and then shifted back to his earlier looks "better, thank you".

"Can you ride?" Dougal was irritated, more it seemed then last time, I mean this time…that was…then. O my, this will not be easy.

Dougal tossed Jamie's coat to his lap "Good, were leaving" and with that went somewhere to a back room, while the rest of the men were seeping out the door.

I remembered this moment.

While setting his arm, Jamie gave me the gift of forgetfulness and denial of my situation.

An escape, if only for a moment, from the complete terror I felt the first time I went through those stones.

When the moment ended, and I returned to my prisoner stature, I felt dread, panic and complete loneliness at the enormity of my reality.

My reality, now, was just as confusing, complicated and scary. I still had the same enemies and with none of the friends I made. None of them know me yet.

I still had to watch what I said and did, for one small faulty move, could take back the only miracle I wished to preserve in all this nightmare; Jamie.

I looked up at him, and my glass face must have showed my distress for he gave a side-glance at our surrounding, gathered me with his good arm into him and kissed me fervently. His tongue inside my mouth, moving his soft lips to cover, suck, caress mine.

Hand placed on the back of my neck pulling me more and more into him, and up so I found myself standing on my toes and leaning on him with hardly any weight on my feet. It was passionate but brief.

As he released me, foreheads clasped together he whispered ardently "Not alone" and immediately unhanded me, coming to stand by the exit awaiting me to fallow.

My lips were tingling, my mouth seem to still hold the ghost of his demanding tongue inside it and my knees seemed to be surprised at all the returning weight all at once, so they fittingly buckled leaving me to sway a little.

"Right" I murmured to myself. Definitely no loneliness this time.

And I was out the door, with him very lightly letting his hand hover at my back.

when my lips could move again I said "That's how I know I wasn't in my own time anymore". I was standing in the doorway, taking a gulp of freezing air into my lungs, shoulder to shoulder with Jamie.

"what do ye mean?" he asked while trying to settle is right shoulder, that was strapped in the makeshift belt-sling I made and probably skidded, as a result of his prompt act of affirmation to me.

I instinctively, half turned to him and was unbuckling and rebucklingit for a more comfortable angle. He, also instinctively, half turned to me, naturally coming much closer.

The palm of his good arm was gently placed on my hip. It wasn't done as some illustrious invite, but simply as a man whose wife nursed him many times and was just allowing her- me- complete excess to his body.

It was so naturally ordinary, I thought nothing of it.

I should have been more aware, we were much too comfortably intimate with each other.

"'Before, the first time that is, when you told me that was Inverness" I inclined my head at the now fully dark village "and I realized that there were no electric lights, I did tell you about electric...Jamie?" he was not listening to me, his face was looking at the other party of men who were staring at us.

A few, I could see, even in this dim light of the moon, with frowns on their faces, other with protruding eyes. One was stabbing another in his side, pointing, licking his lips in a very crude way…. O…. dear lord, I realized what they were staring at, and I backed away quickly from Jamie.

He realized too and was quicker with his wit than I. He pointed is thumb at me and said something demeaning in Gallic, which I only gathered through his expressions and their laughter. I half coughed under my breath, while he, very intelligently, walked to his horse, not looking back.

Serve him right if I didn't follow him and went to ride with someone else.

But then I remembered the smell of the other men. Jamie it is then.

The other men were, slowly returning to mount their horses.

Dougal, coming from behind me, roughly seized my arm, shoving me towered Jamie, who was mounting his horse with Mutagh's help.

"get ye'r self up. Ye'll be sure to stay close to the rest of us, and if ye to try anything else I shell slit your throat for you, do ye understand?" his mouth was viperly whispering in my ear, closer and meaner than last time (what did I do wrong?).

All of a sudden another hand snatched at me on my other arm. Jaime was bent on his horse, with great difficulty, I saw, and was pulling me to him.

"Aye, she understands uncle" he sounded very menacing, which I know was directed at Dougal and not at me.

Dougal seemed completely baffled by this "What on earth were you thinking? Saying Uncle?" he berated Jamie in Gallic.

Jamie used to ask me 'what on earth were you thinking?' so many times in the duration of our marriage. so I understood the phrase quite well.

Jamie realizing the shaky ground we were walking on, replied in a reconciling voice "I only meant the lady has been cooperating thus far, treated my shoulder and such, answering you're questions and…"

"So what? ye purpose we let her go then?" Dougal raised his voice, that held a distinct tone of aggression.

It was not lost on Jamie, so he snorted slightly and said "Ho, no uncle, believe ye me, I swear to ye I'm not about to let this women out of my sight! She goes nowhere. Donna be worriet. I'm the one with the most to lose if she disappear.

I promise ye, she'll have to answer to me if she strays" at that he pulled me closer to him and to the horse, bent his head to me and said with a glint in his eyes "and she kents it verra well indeed" and before Dougal could dare respond ,he nodded to Murtagh to help me mount.

Murtagh, who I had to remind myself, didn't know me yet, so I couldn't take to heart the unnerving looks he was giving me, reluctantly hoisted me up while Dougal, now awaken from is outright dumbfoundness at Jamie's behavior, left us to take the lead with his own horse.

"seas" Jaime calmed the horse, who didn't seem to remember the feel of our combined weight from before and was not pleased about the new addition.

So were the rest of the men, I noticed.

looking away from Murtagh to their faces, which I knew so well but theirs showed no recognition of that, they were eyeing me in a way that ranged from licentious resentment, menacing bewilderment or outright blinding hate (that I sincerely hoped was based on my English station and not anything else).  
"Seas a leannan" Jaime kept whispering in balmy tones. Sweet, calming words while petting the horse's neck. The horse didn't seem to be distressed at all and I realized that he was talking to me. I relaxed my body which I only now noticed was stretched tight; probably over coming face to face with Dougal, his sudden resurrection and a rough reminder of his true nature.

I exhaled deeply, relaxing further at feeling my lover's hand caressing the horse's mane and my hand that laid there.

"math baagh" he turned to gesture to Murtagh " Tha gu matha charaid" and with that his thighs were working the horse to forestall any further invasiveness or inquisitiveness from the throng of people around us.

As we gathered enough security under the blanket of darkness, he gathered me into him so tightly , that his breath came strong and hot in my ear and his chest was close-fitting with every inch of my back.

I in turn scooped my derriere taut and fixed it right between his inner thighs. This recompensed me a very low hum of approval from the 'driver seat'.

I smiled to myself. Finally the reason we both played along with this masquerade; to be together. To just be.

However, feeling complete contentment is still not enough to brace the elements; so I sarcastically muttered "This wasn't for your benefit young man" I rocked my hip again "I'm cold, a gentlemen might offer to have his plaid loose in order to cover a girl... or women"

He's chest vibrated a smidge from repressed laughter and replied "well dinna wanna give them more reasons to talk and speculate about us, now did I ?" but then he sobered up and said quite seriously "sorry lass, I thought you were scared not cold. That's why I'm shivering! Can ye reach? I canna do it…."

"One handed, I know, I remember" and we started an awkward dance of tugging and shifting until the plaid came loose and could be wrapped around us.

This time, though, it covering more of my frozen limbs, due to the non-existent distance between us.

Once covered and regaining more secrecy under his plaid, Jamie's good harm came around my midsection and was caressing, thawing, and lightly massaging me. I inadvertently closed my eyes in the sheer pleasure of it, and ever so lightly was rubbing myself on him as if he was a big scratching pole and me a kitten.

I heard him whisper in my ear "Not that I'm not enjoying it a ghraidh, but watch yourself" I nodded and hastily gathered all my features.

While riding though, I was so tired I kept finding myself leaning my head on his chest, snuggling affectionately into him, clinging to his arm and not the pommel, which was more befitting a women who was kidnapped and was surrounded by strangers.

stop it Beauchamp! I berated myself, when I almost drowsily reached a hand to caress his stubble chin.

Why on earth can you not control yourself?! I reproached myself. But I knew the answer to that.

I went through quite a lot these past two days.

From resigning myself to never seeing Jamie again, to saying a heartrending goodbye, to being filled with Disbelief, anger, denial for losing him, to the acceptance of my world collapsing, acceptance of a life of hollowness and abandonment that will be with me always and to the sense of black rage and betrayal at the knowledge that I had never taken him for granted, then why was he being taken from me?!

After that emotional ride, I went through the stones and then: the running, being chased, shot, beaten, saved, and threatened **again**.

All worth it to be back in his arms, of curse. But very, very exhausting.

The problem was not that I could feel that exhaustion take more and more hold over me, but that With all that was happening, I was not afraid.

I had Jamie. And no matter what was the occurrence around me, my body knew that in his proximity, it could relax.

Now was no exception and I was left fighting hard against myself to keep conscious and aware.

When this all happened, the first time, it was sheer panic and adrenaline that was firing my synopsis into complete wakefulness and alertness.

Pondering all that I been through, I started to feel concern. This could not be good for the baby.

I was snapped back to full attention now. MY body tense and breathing shallowly.

"what's wrong with ye, a nighean?"

A single tear ran down my cheek, I swallowed hard and with a choked voice which was very hard to eject, I said broken "The baby".

No sound came from my back, but his body reacted the same as mine, his voice too.

"Are ye bleeding Claire?" I stopped him from halting the horse by putting a hand on his thigh.

"No Jamie. He's gone. I thought something wrong when I first woke from crossing through the stones, but now…. I can feel it, he's not there anymore"

"How can ye…" he interjected, trying to grasp at something to rebut me. I squeezed his thigh again, tears running down both cheeks now.

"I don't kno know, I just do" I simply said.

"but…"

"Jamie" I said very coldly "I know what it was like when he was inside of me, and it doesn't feel like that now"

Silence, and then I felt a single tear at my nape as we continued to ride, thankful for the darkness that sheltered us from the others.

Neither of us could pretend now.

* * *

It was mid- afternoon when they were nearing the rock. Cocknammon Rock.

The ambush would be here.

Soon he will have to warn Dougal. But for now-

Claire did not speak another word to him since she told him about the child.

She just went in and out of conscious. Body so rigid he couldna tell when she awakened and when asleep.

She didn't shy away from him, but she felt so unyielding to his touch.

He remembered that feeling after faith, when he ran after her at Louise De Rohan's garden and she wouldna even look at him.

Would thIS be what breaks her? Tear her apart from him forever? Did he get her back only to lose her to sorrow and pain? He know her heart to be so wide. what happens when such a size breaks?

'Gone' that's all she said. Not that she lost the child, as she said with faith, but 'gone'.

Gone, as he felt himself, going through those rocks.

Did the force that gathered him back, did not return the child?

If he had any vitality left in him he would be mad, but he could not even do so.

Soon, verra soon, they were coming closer.

"Jamie?" her voice was coarse from lack of use. But his heart leapt at the sound of it.

"Aye?" he swallowed trying to lubricate his palate and throat in order to speak.

In order To speak to her.

"You remember about the…"

"Aye. I do" he replied. Her tone was so dry, so not caring. He felt his heart break.

But she did care. Enough not to die and maybe enough to not want him to die.

He tried to grasp at anything. For if he stopped, if he stopped and looked at what he lost, what they lost, he would fall to the ground and never move again.

"I'll be telling him shortly. But Claire?"

"What?"

He had so much to say to her, but couldna find the words. Dinna know where to start.

"Ye will go and hide yourself properly, aye? From the red coats I mean. I shall come to you where I found you then, where you tried to...escape" he clarified "it….. it will maybe give us some time to talk awhile, aye?"

"Fine" she said sounding so far away from herself, from him.

"Good then" he said trying to sound consoling and reassuring at the same time. And managing only to sound a complete fool.

Fine then, but first thing first, he had to keep them alive, he thought, as he goaded his horse forward to Dougal.

* * *

Jamie rode us up to Dougal, leaned to him and told him in Gallic, about the soldier's ambush that await us.

Dougal stared at me; eyebrows raised and then with the utmost earnest intent, inquired "Now, ye'll be telling me exactly how and why you come to know there's an ambush up ahead?!"

I stared back. Even in my dazed state I could feel anger seeping into me. I couldn't open my mouth for all I wanted was to scream at him and say 'because I'm from the future, and if you hadn't decided to try and murder me, you effing piece of s**t, I would still have my child'.

Jamie must have seen my tell-all face, for it was his voice that answered, while his arm, literally, crushed all the angry wind out of me.

"She said she heard in the village. That red coats like to lay in wait here 'obout. And it does seems a real bonny place for an ambush, bràthair-athar"

"Aye it is that" Dougal was eyeing me as if to yank the truth out of me, but then looked around, resolved himself, and gestured the men.

This time, I was lowered very gently to the ground, instead of thrown.

I supposed carnal knowledge of the the man in charge, granted me better handling.

That should have made me at least crack a smile but it didn't.

I didn't roll on the ground this time, I didn't run, I simply walked away.

Heard them galloping, whooping out loud, heard the shooting commence, heard the fighting ensue.

To the outside observer I might have seem so odd, walking slowly away from a battle field, like someone just strolling through the heather.

Could this even be called a battle field or just a fight perhaps a brawl?

The mind thinks of the most ridiculous things, I observed coldly, striding along, on the soggy ground, lifting my hands around me to move the branches at my path.

I looked straight ahead but seem to see nothing in front of me; my brain seemed to not interpret what my eyes saw.

I should really watch were I was going, I noted to myself, not caring. I wasn't in the right place or in the right time to go so unguarded.

Did I want to be killed? I asked myself and found I didn't have an answer to give.

It was the second time, my second child.

And when that thought sprung to me, my feet seem to stop working and I crumbled to the ground.

Wet, muddy, cold, dangerous…. Random words seemed to be forming in my head floating about with no meaning to them.

"Lost your way?"

"Very funny" I answered very dryly to the voice that spoke above me. Was he actually making jokes?

"Now, did I not tell you what will happen if ye wandered away?"

"What?" I blurted out raising my eyes to have the very conniving, shifty eyes of Dougal MacKenzie look back at me.

"S**t!"

Dirk in hand he was surveying me and I could tell he had it in mind to conduct an investigation and get **all** his questions gratified.

I know he wouldn't like or believe any of the answers I would give him. He didn't before.

And unless I came out with a divulging confession that I really was a spy, And commence into a speech involving all the trade secret of the British army, without the restrains of his brother Colum I was pretty much in the hand of a misogynist, impulsive jerk.

A very **strong** misogynist, impulsive jerk

Let the laying for my life begin. Again.

* * *

She walked like the dead on their way to Hades.

She didn't even glance back at him, when she left.

Just wandered into the trees, and disappeared. The sight made his inside cringe.

How was he supposed to fight for his life, now?! Last time it was even a wee bit fun.

Fun, would he ever feel that again?

He got shot again and if she was in her right mind she would be killing him for that.

He always found it funny she was so furriest with him for getting hurt, as if he hurt her deeply, by bleeding. Even before they wed.

He hadna found anything funny right now.

Beside, he reasoned protectively, preparing his plea for forgiveness. He had to choose the path he went before, That got him shot, before.

He choose it for a reason the first time! The other way meant running straight into the red coats.

By the time he took his eyes away from her receding figure, there was no way to go but-

'The less of two evils' he'll say to her in his defense. Would she even care this time?

Beside it didn't feel as bad as before, forbye. Maybe it was really just a graze this time.

He realized that he had already reached the place he caught up with her then, and was just sitting on his horse looking at a very small, very empty clearing of woods.

He dismounted looking frantically around; he should have tracked her as he did before, not just walked blindly to the same spot.

"Claire….. Claire….." he cried out in a panic.

O God, not her too. He couldna lose her too, not her, A Dhia, cuidich mi!

He was going through every prayer he know, even the one's involving, for some reason, sheep and didn't care.

A rider was coming. Murtagh!

"I canna find her Murtagh!" he bellowed to the man before his horse even reached him.

He circled himself panting. Where would he even start looking?

"Ye great clot!" Murtagh rushed to him, dismounting and half leaping at him to get him to calm down "They'll hear ye! shouting like that, what r'ye trying to do?! Make sure they'll finish the job?!"

He was wriggling violently from his reach "I lost her, I lost her" he couldna stop repeating it. Still panting and turning to all directions.

"How, the lass?" Murtagh was trying to get a good grip on him and to silence him "what wrong wi' ye, bhalaich? What's wi' ye and that women? ... Jamie!" seeing that his tactics of reasoning was failing, he clotted Jamie's ear, jerked him to face him by grasping both of Jamie's arms with his hands and hissing loudly into his face "be still ye **burraidh**! She's wi' Dougal…"

"What?!" Jamie grasped Murtagh arms in return "why?"

"Now ye'll be telling me what's with you and that lady, Jamie"

This was not said as a request. Jamie knew an order when he was given one.

Calming himself at once, now that he knew she was found, he got his wit about him and answered very calmly "Nothing! I was worried I lost her. And after me making such a fuss to Dougal about how I'll be the one minding her…"

Seeing he wasn't winning his audience, he added with as much genuine tone he could master "We're about to walk on very dangerous ground ye and I " he put his hand on his godfather shoulder reassuringly "If I was to lose the women, I would lose favor wi' Dougal. And when Colum comes to know about it. That I lost an English spy? Ho, that willna do at all"

"Did she tell ye she's a spy, then?"

"No" he waved the idea with his hand bunching his face "I ken verra well she isn't. But what I ken and what my uncles think they know, are two different things. And if we were to stay in their house, then…"

"Then their way of thinking is law, aye. I see your meaning" Murtagh took a deep breath and sighed "Christ have mercy, ye had me really worriet about ye, I thought ye're heid went to mash" he let out a small laugh "aye, to worry for ye makes a man age. But don't ye be worrying ye'r heid of the matter, Dougal caught her only a few steps from us, sitting on the ground. The lass was even too stupid to try to make a good run of it"

"Aye. weel, we should go" Jamie said, trying for all his might not to sound angry at the slights against his wife.

When the caught up with the party, Claire was sitting rigidly and with as much distance as possible (and it wasna verra possible) on Rupert saddle, Rupert firmly behind her, his belly rubbing itself at her back.

"A charaid" he called to him and had to adjust his tone to sound much less darker. "One of ye on a horse is plenty, another one is just out right killing the animal" he led his horse beside them "come. I'll take the women" he was holding out his hands to her, when Rupert cradled her more firmly with his arms around her.

"Ouch no. Much oblige to ye, but no need" Rupert grinned "Beside ye had a go of it enough lad, let the others play too".

Jamie's horse snorted and geared its head. Jamie inadvertently squeezed his legs and pained him.

"Beside" added Rupert excitingly, while lifting one curl of Claire's hair with his fingers "she dosna **feel** so heavy" he put the curl to his nose sniffed and added "smells good too, better than the horse at least"

"Has very strong, very long fingernails to claw the eyes of very rude persons, too" Claire added dryly, just before Jamie's fist was launched to meet Rupert's face.

"Its fine" she said with a knowing look to Jamie "he'll behave, now! won't he?" and she lifted her hand wiggling her fingers in illustration.

"Aye of course mistress" said Rupert apologetically. Jamie was not convinced but what could he do?

He rode alongside them though, asking Rupert anything he could think of, moving back when the road couldn't allow for two riders, but returning at once to **her** side.

He was however feeling very dizzy, tired and stiff. Goddammit the shot was has bad as before.

That made him a bit distracted, so when the whiskey goatskin, who wandered around the men was handed to Claire by him (all the while Rupert making affronted noises behind them for not being served first) he was shocked to find her shivering so violently she almost dropped the jag.

"Jesus Christ ye'r frozen" He was loosening his plaid struggling to remove his coat one handed to no success "Infrinn thing won't come off"

His dizziness grow and grow as he moved and twisted himself, and all of a sudden her voice came from inside his head but a million miles away.

"Jamie….. Jamie….stop all of you, he's going over" so she does still care; he smiled to himself hearing the panic in her voice and then his body hit the ground and he heard nothing else.

He woke to full darkness surrounding him, and a very familiar scorching feeling in his shoulder.

"You idiot, you bloody dumb, fool" she was pouring the alcohol vigorously, unbuckling the sling and tearing her shift for bandages, all the while berating him and sounding panicked and annoyed at the same time "O no! The bloody buffoon doesn't care how others who care and worry for him would feel, seeing him hurt and unconscious, falling off a horse. always playing the hero, bloody, bloody…." She was grasping to find more insults.

"Scot" he gasped, clenching his teeth against the pain, and smiling for the first time in days.

"I never heard a women use such language in my life" Dougal said and the other men starred at her unable to comprehend what for God sake was this creature.

She is mine he said to himself; this magnificent creature is mine, he answered the not asked question. Every zesty emotion, every fiery word, every touch, all her heart everything that she his….. Mine!

He had awakened with a realization that made him very happy and he needed very badly to tell her about it.

In the meantime, though, he was enjoying himself, listening to her shout orders, yelling at the bandage for not complying and frowning at the rude comments the man were saying regarding how proper women should conduct themselves.

He looked at her, half naked, marching everything and everyone in sight, so fearless and feisty.

He remembered when he first woke looking up at her face boring at him. Not understanding why, but suddenly feeling warmth spread inside him, and a yearning. A very strong yearning.

To be honest, he felt something when she first touched him, while setting his arm. Her hand on his good shoulder, his holding on to it. but there was too much pain to be sure.

When she took her hand away, he suddenly wanted to grab it and put it back in its place, he couldn't exactly explain it, but he felt as if it was missing; which was ludicrous of course at the time. He had only known her a minute, how can she be missing from his life when she was never there to begin with?

After that, when Dougal told him they were leaving, he felt a shiver go through him at the thought of never seeing her again.

He remembered staggering to his feet, not knowing what to say what to do with himself. He left her with a knot at his stomach;

When Dougal announced her coming along with them and placed her on **his** horse, he just wanted to hold her and stare at her face, to make her talk to him in her English voice.

When the fight ended and they realized she was gone, he was the one who spurred his horse before anyone could speak and said he'll bring her back.

Dougal might not have thought the trouble worth it and he wasn't about to let that be a consideration.

At the time, he convinced himself that his insistence to return her and not to let her go, when he finally caught up with her, even though she helped him, was that it wasna safe!

she was stubborn and he thought she wouldna listen to reason, and he had to keep her safe if she let him or no.

But when he grabbed her arm to stop her from running saying "I shall pic ye up and throw ye over my shoulder, do you want me to do that?" and she hissed in his face he started doubting his unselfishness motives. All his mind and body said was 'don't let her go'.

Christ, if she dinna comply as swift as she did he might have pulled her to him and kissed her, she was so **feisty** and to his surprise he liked it.

And then, after that when we awoke under the tree in the dark, with her berating him. His chest felt hallow and he wanted her badly.

He didn't ken what it was then, but after three years together it was still there!

"I wasna gone lass, I just haven't come yet"

"What?" she stopped doctoring him and stared at him worried. The other men had already left to their horses, at Dougal announcement that they were to ride as soon as she's done with her administration. Murtagh left to fetch his horse for him.

They weren't alone but he could maybe slip in a word or two without being heard "I just havena come yet" he repeated.

"Are you delusional?" she sounded truly frightened "I couldn't take it if you are!"

"Claire" he pleaded for her to really hear him "They haven't come yet"

"What?"

"The bairns" he said lowering his voice as possible and glancing around to see no one could hear, "Not gone…" his gaze returned to her, her face frowned in thought

"They haven't happened yet" she finished the sentence for him, realizing what he meant "you think-"

"I don't think, I know! I wasna shot yet, until now" he tried grasping for a better explanation "I was shot before, it did happen, but when I … when we went through the stones it didn't happen **yet** , I had no scar, no pain on really cold days; I kent it had happened, but it didn't happened... yet"

"But then…." she said sad. He stopped her seeing her point.

"No, Mo nighean donn, I **could** of chosen not to get shot simply by going left instead of right, only in this case, it will also mean I would have been down right killed, so I chose getting hurt a little, over being deid a lot. Thought ye might like me better hurt then deid, but if I was wrong I ask ye'r pardon" that got him a look "aye, weel. but my point is, that once I was shot the result was the same, the exact same, I mean is it no?" he side- glanced at the affronted part "It feels the same to me, but ye'r the healer, is it?"

"well" she glanced at it herself, checking it and continuing to finish his dressing "well, yes it is, exactly the same" then she clubbed his ear and said with some asperity "could have told me you were shot, **again** , before falling off your horse, you big oaf"

"Dinna hurt much at the time" he said amused at their little game of repeating past words. It seemed his love was as adamant as him in remembering their first encounter "That's why I thought it wasna so bad as before"

"Does it Hurts now?" she asked, lips yearning to curl up.

"Aye" he answered returning the joke.

"Good" she said shrewdly and smiled with a smile she usually preserved for their private moments. It made his heart flatter; she wasna mourning anymore.

"Aye, that's the thing Claire" he held the hand she placed on his shoulder smiling back "Claire, once shot the exact same thing happened again. Once choosing the path and taking the same action, the result was…."

"Are you trying to say, that once we were to….. mmmph" she was getting good with the Scottish noises "The same action will result with the same outcome?"

"Ho, aye, to be sure. And if ye havnna been noticing Sassenach, I tend to get ye on your back quite often"

"Jamie!" she hissed low voiced.

"What's wrong wi' that? Ye seem to like it just fine" he pretended to be hurt.

"You know perfectly well that I do. You bloody-minded barbarian" she answered indignantly, eyes narrowing at him, nostrils flaring and trying to take her hand away. He wasnna having none of that.

He was now fondling her hand, trying to think, could he manage to bite her knuckle quickly without anyone noticing. He was feeling quite giddy at his realization that the bairns are still here with them, and that all it took was him plunging himself into her depths and rocking until pure ecstasy ensued.

Murtagh was coming close. She noticed, stood on her feet saying "well I, suppose, that's all **I** can do" she reached her hand to him giving him a very double meaning look, one eyebrow cocked "the rest his **up** to **you** ".

He looked up at her eyes intensely, took her hand to help him rise and immediately, as it was the first time, he felt the fiery heat inside his stomach ignite, and excitement to what's to come now that she was here.

The same action and the exact same result.

"Thank you Sassenach, truly". And did not mean his arm.

* * *

Chapter 2: Castle Leoch

We arrived at the castle the following morning.

I rode with Jamie again, after I informed Dougal in a very stern matronly tone, that if he insists on not allowing Jamie to rest a bit and could not afford me the proper means to treat my patient; He at least could allow me to make sure he stays conscious during what was left of the ride.

Jamie on his end played his roll wonderfully (with such a flare for the dramatics that he has) and contrived himself to look bamboozled, bewildered and in a complete stage of disarray, so much so, that at one point I had to elbow him to not take it too far.

He smiled under his noise at me, nodded and went back looking exactly the same.

"….And ye're arse is a wee bit smaller too, Sassenach" he said disapprovingly as we arrived at the courtyard of castle Leoch "What have they been feeding ye at your time?"

Through very skillful caresses, done under the shelter of his plaid, we discovered that our bodies did indeed seem to regress to the exact state they were, when I first came through the stones.

Jamie's hand was perfect. Perfectly healthy, whole and elastic.

And once alone, I was sure that we would find that any scars that were left from his encounter with Black Jack or the scar left from Murtagh cutting off Randall's brand on him (Effing degenerate), will be gone as well.

"Well it was only six month after a very bloody, draining war, that I came here, and with me trying to get my head around returning so civilian life, handling all the fallout, finding a place to live at, building a life-"

And my outright nervousness at resuming my full marital life with frank and all that came with it, I thought to myself, but wisely decided better than to say that part out loud.

"I didn't have much time or appetite" I concluded.

"Dinna take proper care of ye, did he now?" Jamie said pleased "Donna fret we'll see to that"

Jamie was outright giddy and wringing on my very last nerve.

Ever since we remounted and were coming closer and closer to the castle, he was talkative, excited and **very** annoying.

I understood, truly I did. I knew that we could not have received a better gift then this breathtaking start.

Instead of a life of separation, we had a clean slate.

Instead of vaguely trying to figure what was to come, from my almost nonexistence and not accurate knowledge of events, we know exactly what will happen, when and how.

I was happy! **Genuinely and profoundly** happy!

But while deep emotions, such as these, made me experience content and **serene** happiness, they made Jamie jump out of his own skin, and in need to extricate all that built up energy into action, usually involving some sort of sexual act.

I could feel the hum of his body, glued to mine, eager to finally be alone with me.

He surveyed my body with his hands as best he could under the cover of the plaid, and I knew he was estimating exactly what to with it once he got me alone.

That part was fine by me as well, truly.  
Only with the lack of capacity to perform any act of release on his part, for awhile at least; my dear, Wonderful husband could not keep his mouth shut!

He told me how inappropriate my wardrobe was and how he could not believe any man in his right mind would allow **his** women to go outside like this, that my hair was to smooth and short and how horrible that frank did not let it run wild and free, how I should be very careful with my glass face and how we needed to be clever and not let **my** deep love for him show - Which really wasn't a problem at this exact moment for I was quite sure all that was shown on my face was annoyance-  
All a while Jamie persisted about how this and how… ho, who the bloody hell cares!?

I stopped paying attention at some point (it was important for his health that I do so).

By the time we reached the castle I was pretty much fed up and in need of space.

Besides, I thought a little vindictively, if he was so displeased with anything regarding me, he shouldn't be anywhere near me!

All around us the men were dismounting and the same reception as before was unfolding.

Old Alec came to joyfully greet the arrival of his dear horses more than the men, I looked up and saw Colum scrutinize me from above, through his study's window.

Ho dear, that needed to be dealt with as well, and again; I mused to myself and managed to exaggerate my exasperation further all by lonesome.

But first thing, first…. Mrs. Fitz bountiful figure and smile arrived from the side door of the kitchen.

A smile almost as wide as her heart, I thought, as I was staring longingly into the face that was welcoming the men so lovingly.

I could feel my insides calming.

When she noticed me, as before, I couldn't help but beam at her, wholeheartedly. Remembering what a true friend and comfort she was, when I first came; bedraggled and defiant at all that stood in front of me, trying so hard not to show fear.  
I remembered the story I learned from Murtagh, about how she fought for me during my capture and trial at Cranesmuir.  
It sprung in me the need to run and hug her.  
I have always regretted never gotten to say goodbye to her.

"And what do we have here?" she came close

"Claire Beauchamp" I answered instead of Jamie this time, and curtsied slightly, wanting to show her proper respect this time.  
I did learn something during my time here, after all.  
At the last second, I couldn't help myself and took her hand in mine, holding it very lightly and said  
"You must be Mrs. Fitz, I mean Mrs. Fitzgibbons".

She looked at me with complete bewilderment, but I didn't pause  
"The men they told me of you while we rode here, told me how you would welcome and care for them and well" I stared sown at my bedraggled self "me" I added apologetically.

"Ho…" she muttered unsure what to make of this.

"Excuse my forwardness, but I simply wanted to meet the women that inspired such praises from those who know her" I smiled kindly.

"Ouch! Come now" she waved her hand as to minimize the complement.

"I wish very much for us to become friends" I endured kindly.

"Ouch, My dear" she was blushing, she did not get many complements, and I thought her very deserving of it "verra kind, verra kind of you".

At this Jamie interjected (how asked him) "Murtagh found her, Dougal said we must bring her along wi' us…so"

"So…" she repeated a bit wary, but resigned herself to her role "come wi' me, we shall find ye something to eat and something to wear that a bit more... well… a bit more"

"Thank you kindly, I don't usually look like this" I said apologetically again as we started to walk toward the castle.

A strong distinct cough stopped us.  
Jamie coughed again waiting to be understood.  
Unlike him though, I kept my mouth shout. see how he liked that!

"what a miss wi' ye than?" Mrs. Fitz enquired.

He stared at me waiting; I cocked my eyebrow at him and gathered my arms together, claiming complete ignorance.  
I wasn't really going to let the opportunity for us to be alone pass, but I could make him sweat a tad (it was a very long ride).  
He made a very distinct scottice noise, but I stood my ground.

"Jamie are ye ill a balach?" she was truly worried.  
"Aye, I am" he said in clipped tones "and Mrs. Beauchamp has been saying how she **has** to attend to me properly, once we reached our destination. A matter of life and death she said" he added narrowing his eyes at me "inflammation, fever, swelling, she said"  
He turned to Mrs. Fitz pleading for compassion "I was shot ye see"  
she gasped  
"Fell off my horse and everything" he added for dramatic affect.

I sighed and resigned myself to my role as well.

"Yes, I bandaged his shoulder, but I wasn't able to clean and dress it properly, I do must tend to it. Wouldn't want him to swoon again" I said only light mocking in my voice, but he heard it and his now perfect hand clenched.

"I'm a healer, a wisewoman, I know how to tend to such matters" I added, ignoring him and explaining to Mrs. Fitz, still not convinced face.

She considered my closely as before, and I wondered for the thousand time how rare were physician in this time?

"Jamie ye heard the lady, ye need tending. This way" she ordered.  
Jamie was already at our heels before she finished her commands.

As we walked through the corridors of the castle and to the chamber that will be our-  
I mean- my home for awhile, the feeling of déjà vu engulfed and moved me.  
So much so, that I wanted to caress the walls as I walked.

This time it wasn't the memories of frank and me exploring a decrepit ruin that triggered it, but Jamie and me and our time in the castle.

Even the time before we married. Such innocent times against what's to come.

Even though we were surrounded by ill-wisher, sly devious minds that tried to control and manipulate us to gratify their own ambition and aspiration, they could not come close to events that followed them.

The watch, Wentworth, Jack Randall, The Duke of Sandringham, losing Hugh munro, King Louis, bloody Bonnie Prince Charlie and his ego-driven war, oh Lord, the war.

I had more on my list, and realization seeped into me.  
For better or worse, right in this moment, we were far from these things, people and event. And we were together, our future not determined yet!

Whatever annoyance or prickliness I felt evaporated and by the time I looked at my, now, half naked husband sitting on a stool by the fire trying to be covered by a blanket by Mrs. Fitz, I felt so tender I could have melted.

Evidently toying with Jamie for five minutes was more than enough and too much for me.  
I wanted one moment alone with him.

We stopped in the kitchen for all of the supply I needed, but I wanted to offer an olive branch.

"I want to give him a sponge bath" I declared "I mean, I must wash the area around the wound, not just the precise place. to make sure no other part is ruptured or bleeding internally… from the inside I mean. And for that I need to see the color of the skin when it is completely clean of dirt and muck" I said at her gaped mouth and bulging eyes at my request for provision needed for a bath.  
"And I wouldn't mind having one myself" I added as an after thought, examining myself up and down and flinching in aversion.

"For later of course, after I'm done treating the young man… and I am alone, by myself, with no one around" I added promptly, for at this point she was clutching her chest and seeming either about to faint or suffer a myocardial infarction.

The scandalous expression on her face reseeded a fraction. And she nodded.  
"Aye… of course, I shell just go and fetch some ewers then"  
But then as remembering something she added "maybe for young Jamie I'll apply the washing …I mean ye… it willna be proper"  
"It's fine Mrs. Fitz, I'm sure Mrs. Beauchamp as seen worse than my poor carcass or back" he said with a teasing smile "And I'm obviously no threat to anyone in my current state…. well maybe I am to anything ye can find in your heart to bring me to eat. To that, I canna guarantee that they would be any survivors or even crumbs left"  
As always, Jamie knew what to say and how to say it and my reasoning was sound enough that she smiled, gave him a quick squeeze on the shoulder and went to leave.

She was so protective of him it almost made me love her more, if such a thing was possible.

I looked at her receding figure and thought; she, was truly the heart and soul of this place. The sun that kept all the little rats and their intrigues scatter back to their holes, when she shined.  
I missed her so, amongst all the self-centered, vain, vapid people in Paris or at the fields of battles fought, hopelessly, under Charles's flag.  
She would have been able to force all those nurses -wives listen to me and use my disinfected methods that could have saved some of the faces that would sometimes haunt me at the dark moments of regret.

"Thank you Mrs. Fitzgibbons" I said when she hurried toward the door. Could these mere words say all that I was feeling?

"Everybody calls me Mrs. Fitz. Ye may also" she said kindly and smiled.

Joy filled me to see that one future friendship I **was** interested in saving was beginning to form and I smiled back.

I didn't even hear the door clink before a hand descended on my nape, brought me straight into his lap, his mouth on mine. O Lord, that man could kiss.

After awhile he pulled me a little back from him, his forehead on mine, eyes closed as he let out a very long shuttering breath, as if he had been holding it forever.

"ye'll pay for that" he said breathless, opening his eyes slowly.

"What?" I was a little breathless myself not Perceiving his meaning.

"Outside" he said taking a long needed breathe into him, rubbing his forehead to mine.

"Hooo…." I smiled pressing my forehead to his, making him pull back a bit in a mockingly menacing manner " We'll you deserved that for all…."

He silenced me by kissing me again, I cradled his checks with my hands as his good arm made its way down my spine, grabbing my right buttocks and giving it a very firm squeeze.

That made me shriek and jounce slightly on his lap, which in return made him grunt in pain.

I broke off standing to my feet and returning to treat my patient, and not my husband.

"I should really tend to it, I wasn't lying, even **then** , about the complication involved, if not dressed and cleaned properly"

"So ye dinna just want me alone with ye, **then**?" he said amused "too bad, I did"

"Liar" I said chaffing back "you didn't want me to treat ye 'I'm fine' you said 'fend for myself' I seem to recall"

"Well….." he seemed shy all of a sudden "it was only…. Well ye see the blanket D'ye no?"

I was in fact just removing said blanket that was kindly wrapped by Mrs. Fitz to cover his back.  
I was so accustom to his scars I would almost be shocked myself at others reaction to them. For me it was just Jamie, just part of the man I love. I would notice the scars as I would notice the shape of his nose.

I'd forget sometimes what it meant to bear these scars, what was done to him.

"It was only she could smell the fear coming off me, over you seeing my back" he said explaining the existence of the blanket, as if it was not obvious.  
Then he added in a sad manner "So was I".

I circled from the back of him, to crouch in front of him "What?"

"She ken that's why I dinna want to come and let ye doctor me" he said with a rueful smile "otherwise I would have… well to have the chance to have ye lay your hands on me just for a little longer…. it did hurt the first time, but some of it felt…." He shifted a little in his seat to seemingly ease some pressure.

"You said, you didn't mind me seeing your back" I added feeling a tad affronted and not knowing exactly why "that I didn't make you feel pitiful'".  
Then It donned on me;  
It was silly, truly, but him claiming to have trust in me, without even truly knowing me; well I remembered it felt more than a little heartwarming when he first said it to me.

later during our lives together it was one of the things I said to myself to fortify the strong assurance i felt, of us belonging together.

To be told by him, that even before I fell inlove with him, or had the chance to learn through experience how to be with him; that I just knew instinctively how to treat him, to make him feel at ease with me.  
That was important to me, for he knew very well from the start how to handle me.

He must have sensed the small pang in my voice, for he said apologetically "Well I dinna ken how ye would react before hand, now did i?"  
I must have looked bewildered for he said  
"I mean…. Christs, do you not ken what you look like Sassenach!? even covered head to toe with muck…. Ye still are…. I mean ye still are one of the most beautiful thing I ha' ever seen, not to mention all proper and dainty…. I mean I dinna think ye could have seen so many misfortune or ugliness in your life… even with a mouth that those not even belong to a wench working in a bawdy house" he ended with a winking smile, which for him meant the most owlish blink of a child.

Even though he was injured, seeing him half naked, large muscles glinting in the fire, looking very much as a big Viking hero returning from pillaging (he could pillage me any time), I was starting to feel a very distinct heat rise from my core.  
But I just smiled, kissed his hand and went back to treat my Viking.

"Mrs. Fitz will bring the water and I will give you a very long, warm proper bath" I said re stationing myself at his back. I could not with good conscience allow neither me nor Jamie to go to sleep at such a state.

And knowing him, if I didn't take care of him he would just collapse and go to sleep dirty, hurt and alone.  
I shivered thinking that, that's what must have happened Last time.

"Is it worse than before?" he asked curiously "ye dinna ask for it last time"  
"Well the fear, terror and heartbroken loneliness I felt, last time, made my fall off my feet and go to sleep like this" I spread my hand displaying the foulness that was I  
"Besides I wasn't married to you then" I added hugging him from the back and applying a small bite to his earlobe "phew" I spat the taste in my mouth  
"I want my husband kissable. And now that there is no issue with proper conduct…"  
I whispered in his ear and let my words trail off, letting him fill in the gaps with his very active imagination.

With that offer, He straightened in his seat, and I could feel more than see his face light up.

Then he winced from the pain in his shoulder and arm, his movement must have jarred it.

"I'm sorry" I came the crouch in front of him again "I should have already strapped that arm to your side".

"Ouch, I dinna like it the first time as weel" he said while I did so "another reason I dinna want to come with ye, I dinna want to be fussed over".  
I was rapping the bandage around him, my hands coming around his waist and I was sited just between his legs, he smiled then and said "I dinna like to hinder my arm such, but I do so remember the applying of it"

His other hand came to my chin held my face up to him "Not lost your touch have ye?"  
His said, face coming close to mine  
"Your husband **is** a lucky man indeed" and his tongue immersed into my mouth, opening mine as his hand moved to the back of my neck-  
Then I felt him wince again.

"What's wrong?" I said releasing my mouth for his.  
"Nothing" he said inching toward me, eager to get back to our previous engagement, but I was backing a way  
"No, come here" he whinged.

He was almost falling for his chair, leaning more and more to me  
"I wanted so much to do that last time, please come here".  
This was followed by a very low growl when I rose to my feet and went to his back  
"What is it then?" I asked again.

"I was verra wrong 'obout the kind women part though!" he said grudgingly and waved his hand in the vicinity of the strap "donna ken, something grazed my skin there"  
"The strap isn't positioned properly, I'll fix it"  
He moaned at that, making it clear he did not care.

When I was done I touched his back tracing the scars.  
"I wished we could have gone back to before he had ever done this to you".  
I could hear him smiling but his voice held a remorseful tone in it.  
"And be alone wi'oot ye all that time? Na lass, I need ye by my side, especially as how I would have been so scared, As I am now. Aye, nay knowing what was happening to me and to no have ye wi' me to explain and share the burden"

"You would have figured it out, I'm sure of it. And maybe it would have been worth waiting the time before me, so you…." I protested.

"There wasna a time before ye" he stopped me.

"Jamie" I frowned at him "you don't need to say that"

"I'm nat trying to humor ye, mo chridhe" he added indignantly "I **have** lived without ye, aye, but my life began the day I met ye." He rose to his feet and turned to face me/  
"How can I make ye understand?" he cupped my face with his good hand, caressing me with his thumb "It is like I started to be **aware** of life, of my actions, feelings, decision, of what it meant to truly be a man, and I don't mean only the bedding" he gave me a wanton smirk, and one ruddy eyebrow shot up.  
"Only when I had ye" he said so amorously "When I needed to protect ye, when I wanted to have ye, when I did have ye" the smirk widened "when I hear what ye tell me regarding things, when I can tell ye all the going on with me, all of my heart and mind" his face were serious now. His thumb caressing my lips very lightly.  
"Aye, I have lived before, but I didn't truly feel it" taking one more, small step to me, he bent and very gently placed his lips to mine, skimming, gliding "I have lived before, but my life began with ye!"

What could I have said to that? How I wished I had something to say to that.

All I could do is look into his eyes beseeching him to see my heart, my feelings, my need for him. To hear the words I couldn't find but felt. To give him all he gave me.

I closed my eyes, one small tear ran down my cheek "I love and need you so much James Fraser".

"Really? Well that's verra good Sassenach" he smiled contently "Although" he added putting his forehead to mine and we swayed a little together "I'm afraid it willna matter if ye did or no. No It would" he corrected swiftly "but I need ye so much, a ghraidh, to much, to ever let ye go"

"Beside" he added after we stood there just locked with each other "there was no way I wouldna protect Jenny from those bastard that tried…" he choked a little at that "I canna see what I could've done differently, Claire. And I couldna imagine going through that **again** "

"Ho Jamie…"

"Dinna fash, lass, it's over and done wi'. Beside" he lifted his head from my forehead and was returning to his usual lighthearted manner "I have it, on good authority that the women I will marry, willna mind it so much" it was a statement but I heard the inquiry in his tone "And as she is the one that will see me the most times bare as a new born bairn" he said In a very inviting smile.

Wanting to answer this plea of confirmation, I sent one hand to his buttocks pulling him to me as he did many times.

"I happen to know" I said, sending my fingernail to his nipple flicking and circling imaginary circle on it until it stood taut and he closed his eyes and shivered  
"On good authority mind you" I added mockingly, not stopping my motions.  
"That your future wife adores, will adore, I mean, your body" my other hand trickled up and down his backside until I dipped it inside his kilt taking in a handful  
"and will enjoy every part of you" using the hand on his chest I ran my fingers through the little short, springy hairs on it.

He was looking down at me, straight into my face, his tongue peeking outside a little.

Whatever Mrs. Fitz was about to bring him to eat, wasn't the only thing at risk to be devoured.  
He was now looking at the hand on his chest.

"Jamie" I said stilling my hands on him, he raised his stare directly into mine "your beautiful to me" I said with all seriousness.

"Beside" I added with an unchaste look of my own, after a moment of standing there intense stares between us "I know for a fact that your future wife often feels as if she cannot control herself with the wanting of you"

He stood there not moving, eyes creasing into slits, fixed on my eyes and not moving.

I felt a rush go through my spine. An adrenaline zest that caused me to flash red all over and made my breath come short.

" **You, bed, now**!" he said abruptly, seizing my hand.

At the exact moment I was starting to be tugged to bed, came the sounds of heavy footsteps down the hall, and the voice of Mrs. Fitz talking to someone came rumbling behind the closed door.

"Be careful wi' the water lass, there hot. Ye willna be wanting to scorch yourself, not wi' dinner not ready ye…. Ouch, I think I left the stew too long, I must hurry to go back".

When the door opened, I was already by the window, Jamie sitting at his seat by the hearth. Each of us looking at different directions.

Which was understandably, much bizarre then if I stood near him, as we were when she left us.

So it was quite reasonable for Mrs. Fitz and the now coming in after her, Laoghaire Mackenzie to stop dead at the doorway and stare at us bewildered.

I sprung to them, taking the jugs, bar of soap and strips of cloth mumbling something about how we were waiting for them and how I couldn't do anything else until I could clean all the injured surfaces.  
Yes, I thought to myself, that sounded plausible.

"Aye" she said still staring very oddly at Jamie, that wouldn't lift his head to save the world at the moment, and was taking very long deep breathes.

"Well, I thought it better to ask my granddaughter to help me carry all these water up, instead of troding back and forth" she added kindly losing interest at the wired Scotsman behavior and was helping me to put thing on surfaces around the room.

"Laoghaire" She indicated for the girl to come closer "Claire Beauchamp" she introduced.

The girl with the pouting face, beautiful long luxuriant yellow hair, perky round breasts and a very fleshy mouth that looked like a soft pillow waiting for someone to rest their lips on-  
well we shall see about that!- emerged for the shelter of her aunt form.

She curtsy not even daring to raise her eyes at me "mistress" she said half choked.

She could be choked all the way as far as I was concerned; I thought very unchristian of me.

Well, she bloody hell tried to have me burned at the stake, for God's sake, how Christian could someone be? I was neither Job nor yet a martyr.  
'Dance on your ashes' rang in my ears.

Yes, I was fully justified in my hate.  
Besides, I reconciled my conscience, I did tell Colum not to do harm to the girl for vengeance sake.

I smiled back at the bowed figure and returned, as best I could, a polite nod.

'We have to be smart, canny and not let our feelings show', that was the main thing Jamie kept pestering me on the ride over. And I wasn't about to let him have the satisfaction of scolding me in a superior fashion that he so loved to do.

I had the best revenge after all, I reminded myself.  
It was Sitting, boring into the fire and shaking with his wanting me.

Laoghaire was acting her best too, insufficiently to say the least, to not look at Jamie half naked, glowing and emitting all the testosterone scents and signals a big male animal exudes in order to attracts its female counterpart.

Not for you, you little-  
I had to calm myself down and fast, me and my 'I'll tell you all my secrets, and no lies' face could not afford such thoughts or emotions.

Jamie sat there. The blanket was back, Covering only his back, I supposed he felt it improper and too intimate for her to see his scars. To see him. He did not trust her!

With a final glance at her, and seeing how I wasn't the only one that found his body appetizingly beautiful, I turned to Mrs. Fitz thanked her and assured her we didn't require anything, not a single thing more, and wasn't there a stew I heard she said needed her attention.

"HO" she exclaimed "ho dear, I must go, sorry Mistress, I must go" and without another look back she was out the door.

Laoghaire kept standing there, completely unaware of what just transpired.

"You should join your grandmother, my dear" I said, the acidity in my voice quite clear.

"What?" she looked up at me then tearing her stare so reluctantly from Jamie.  
Then looking around she realizing her kin was gone  
"What?" she said, complete boggled, wondering what had happened.

"I'll walk you to the door" I suggested _helpfully_ in my tone but half throwing her out the door with my body.

"Ho, aye, thank ye mist….."

I slammed the door at her face and after a moment could hear her leaving.

As soon as the door's lock made a small 'tink' Jamie's good hand grasped my neck, turned me and took my mouth into his.

He lowered his arm scoping my right buttocks with his palm, gathering me into him in such a way a pin couldn't be inserted between us.

Once I was surely stretched tight along his body, his palm started exalting a few familiar maneuvers on my backside, alternating between squeezing, caressing and pinching.

"Jamie…." I gasped to let out a word

"Hush now" he ordered softly

"But what if som…..mmm" his mouth engulfed mine, his body starting to rub himself on mine causing me to swallow my words and omit a pleasurable sound.

"No one we'll come" he said growling slightly.

Finally releasing me and with a hand on my nape again he turned me to face the door.

He placed my palms, one by one, flat on the door. Poor thing, he only had one hand to use.

"Jamie. You don't mean…."

"I mean it just fine Sassenach. Now hush!" his hand left my second palm and was caressing her way down my arm, breast, hip, outer thigh, calf, sleeking its way to the hem of my dress and on to my bare skin, lifting it back up on my leg, this time caressing naked skin.

my dress complied with his touch and was obediently hiked up, staying put on my hips while his hand moved to a spot between my thighs, that by now was sleek and wet  
"This isn't much a show of resistance" he said amusingly in my ear when he felt that.  
" p" I said panting at every syllable, as two fingers were moving inside me, penetrating, Circling and wiggling.  
My forehead was pressed to the door, fingernails scraping the smooth wooden surface making small scratching noises that were swallowed by me, omitting an array of sounds.

Jamie body was compressed at my rear and was vibrating with repressed amusement at my behavior and vocals.

"Careful!" l hissed "'vengeance is mine saith the lord'"

"Ho, really? ye have a really high opinion of yourself, Sassenach. Beside what do you purpose to do about it?" and he proceed in placing one fingertip at a very tender spot and applying pressure.  
I let out a very deep groan.

The bloody bastard was laughing at me.

I started rocking myself with the rhythm of his fingers, moving up and down his body, rubbing. Inching myself at first but slowly gathering speed.

" i…..mmm" it was his turn to pant. He clenched his lips trying very hard not to get to excited "I'll **g e t** ye for this Sasse….. for the love of god, **lift up my kilt**!"

"Helpless am I ?"

"Sassenach! **now**!"

I obliged him, while opening my feet a little wider, I took my hands from the door, sent them back to bunch up his kilt while I caressed his unclad thighs.

With an idea springing to mind, I very lightly scraped his upper thigh very close to base of his yearning, with my nails

"I love ye so much" he quivered with such devoted earnestness in his voice.

I peeped at him over my shoulders. His eyes were closed, head throne back in sheer ecstasy, his face frowning a little as if he was trying to consecrate on only feeling the sensation of my touch.

Suddenly the door shook. I could hear someone trying to open the door. Thank to all that is holly, I locked it.

We froze completely staring at the door.

"Jamie, r'ye there man?" Murtagh voice came through the door.

"No, no, no, no, no" he whispered under his breath non- stop "no, no, no, no" he was trying to lift my dress and his kilt.  
This done with only one hand was absurd.

whatever fabric he let go of, fall back into its place.  
But, I supposed there wasn't much blood rushing into his brain at the moment, for him to realize that.  
He did it twice to no affect.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no"

"Jamie ssshh…" I whispered and addressing the door called out a little louder "yes he is, just a minute. I'm just finishing the bandaging and I'll come to open the door"

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no" he was giving me his best impression of a pleading puppy while I straighten my torn, dirty, crumpled remains of a dress "no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no"

I was leading him back to the small Stool by the fire

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…."

I sat him down and he grabbed both my hands in his very large, strong one, with eyes begging me for dear life.

"What am I supposed to do!?" I hissed, pulling myself free of his clutching hand and reaching for the door "beside his your godfather" I remarked trying to shift the very accusatory look **I** was getting in the direction of his true culprit.

I heard a few more "no, no, no, no" coming from him before I opened the door, Which was now occupied by the always , but now much more than ever, grumpy, suspicious Murtagh.

"I'm so sorry" I smiled, in what I really hoped, was nonchalant manner "when Mrs. Fitz went out I must have inadvertently locked the door, I'm so used to doing that from where I lived before, so I just…" I shrugged praying for dear life that even if he didn't believe me, it will be the end of it.

I turned my back to him coming back to stand by the fire, pretending to be cold, so he couldn't see the face, that told a thousand secrets, and always against my will.

"And that would be oxfordsire you say?" he fallowed into the room

"Yes, of course" I half glanced at him, praying, that there are locked doors in oxfordshire, at present time, and good reason to do so.

"Aye….." Murtagh as always seemed suspicious but then, I guessed, realized he didn't care all that much who the hell I was, and he turned to Jamie.

Jamie was sulking, staring into the fire, refusing to look up.

"What's a miss then?" Murtagh was frowning inquisitively at him now, giving me some freedom, thank God.

"Nothing" he blurted angrily.

"I swear to ye, a gòrach, the way ye been these days….."

"It's the pain" I interjected helpfully "I swear, almost all the Scottish men I treated, deal with pain by becoming angry and grumpy" I laughed a little trying to make light of the situation.

"Have ye found yourself in many occasions treating Scots?" he asked and it was clear that the next question would be: where? In what circumstances?

How am I supposed to explain that?

The truth was, I was treating Scots on a battle field that hadn't happen yet!? Or should I mention that I was also married, for almost three years to one big accident prone Scot!?

"I …." I had no idea what to say.

But as always, no matter at what state he was in, Jamie always did come to my rescue.

"Ye wanted something of me?"

"Aye, Mrs. Fitz said to come and tell you, that Dougal says ye were to sleep at the landing up in the…." Then remembering I was there, stopped, cleared his throat "maybe I should just come and show ye, then? do ye' need help moving?" he made a gesture toward Jamie as if to grab him and let him lean on his shoulder

"no. I dinna need ye'r help, I….. I need to sit a minute".

At that I turned bolt right to my vanity mirror, my back to them so my now, very red face was completely covered

"whats wrong with ye?"

"Nothing" his tones roared a little as Murtagh advanced towered him, which made him freeze at his track "I just need a **minute**!"

"I'm afraid, I hurt him pretty badly" I turned back around, face, I really hoped under control "I mean, bandaging him, I had to prod the joint and clean an open wound, it hurts quite a lot" I hurried to explain myself "dizzy to. He needs a minute to recuperate" I added trying to help my man back.

"Aye, I'll wait wi' ye then" he answered starring at me.

We stood there for what must have been forever but probably only a few seconds.

The more I thought about the situation, the more I had to bite down on my lips which seemed to want to curl up if I allowed them or not.

That rewarded me with two looks: one of complete bewilderment, and the other, well Jamie's look was… Ho dear I was going to pay for this.

Then I decided what were the correct words here. That, hopefully, will redeem me In a very scary looking, flushed Scots eyes. And maybe pave the path for us to have more undisturbed time alone "The wound needs to be cleaned daily, that means **every day** , and bandages replaced. Its important to keep the wound irrigated, " I explained to Murtagh in my most mother Hildinburge tone "so I'll need to see him once a day at least".

"Aye" it was a Jamie rising slowly on his feet smiling, very little, but smiling, I did see it.

"we should go….." but he remained standing looking at me. Neither of us wanted to part.

"Ye shouldna be scared mistress" he said, and there was a seriousness in his voice now "of anyone here"  
'As long as I'm with you' I concluded quietly in my head, knowing I was promised, again, what was offered to me almost from the first moment we met.

I swallowed and met his eyes directly "thank you. I won't" and hoped what he heard was simply 'I love you'.

His smile said he did.

"Coming then?" Murtagh was growing quite impatient of this spectacle.

"Aye" he said moving his feet in the direction of the door while Murtagh took sward, shirt and coat for him "Try to sleep a bit ye'r probably worn out, and sassen…. I mean mistress, watch yourself" he said as we stood shoulder to shoulder.

And with that the two of them were gone.

I did bathe after they left. Concealing brassiere and panties. Remembering how they were taken never to be seen again.

I also slept **again** until five o'clock the next day.

I Was fed the same hot broth, and clothed with all the essential undergarments and clothes that were required to make me a proper 18th century women.

And as I looked at my, this time very familiar, reflection in the mirror, Murtagh knocked at the door and beckoned to come and to the start of it all again.

Events progressed frighteningly the same. And I do mean the same.

Colum at the study, same lies from both parties.

This time luckily, for me that is, I was very much pleased to receive the lie regarding Sean Pitry, the tinker, and his assistance of my leaving.

I obviously did not want to leave in five days but he was not going to let me, so it was working quite nicely for everyone involved.

I got Jamie back; I wasn't living my life without him.

We will be alright; we would fallow the time line this time, not changing anything until the time was right.

Up until the wedding almost everything needed to stay the same, we know that much.

After that, we said we would sit, plan everything one by one. Make lists draw charts if need be, destroy them all after, of course.

But be thorough. so we could keep what we wished and avoid…. I shuddered at the thought of what awaited us in the shape of the things we wanted to prevent.

Jamie was right, we weren't trying to change a destiny of a war, a huge piece in history that was caused and will cause too many ripples, for us to be let to change such a thing.

We were only trying to change small things in the universe, and surely their was a reason we were brought back after all.

Thinking what we did try to change I shivered. It was one of my biggest regrets.

I tried to console myself that I suggested such a thing at the time, in the thought that it will be an active anchor to pull my, then, very broken husband back to life and I honestly did not know where else to go or do for him and all the people that we both wanted to protect and save... I really did see it as the best option.

I pushed such thoughts a way, we were together and we had a plan.

All will be well.

It was at dinner time, that my own husband decided to break our plan.

I had to remind myself I loved him and killing him will solve nothing!

I walked as before to the dining hall.

Suspicious looks and gossiped whispers – check.

A brief nod of recognition from Murtagh – check.

Dougal sitting me down in the main table – check.

Drinks – thank God in heaven, check.

More lies and investigation camouflaged has polite conversation - double check.

But thank the Lord with Rhenish.

ENTER one wayfarer husband – what in hell?!


End file.
